


A Sapphic Mission

by Vibrant_Orchid



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: F/F, Let's Go Lesbians, Pining, commissions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vibrant_Orchid/pseuds/Vibrant_Orchid
Summary: A special mission brings Camille Chamelon closer to Splatter Phoenix than she has ever been before.This was a commission for @based-ducks (Tumblr)If you're interested in getting a commission of your own, you can find more information at @vibrantorchid (Tumblr)
Relationships: Camille Chameleon/Splatter Phoenix
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	A Sapphic Mission

Shifting requires concentration, an absolute focus on every precise detail of the form she needed to take. Every detail was important and mattered--oh screw it. This was Launchpad McQuack, the bumbling boyfriend of the lousy Dorkwing Duck. He would love him if he was hit by a truck several times over, and with the number of times he’s crashed he might as well have been. Camille Chameleon rolled her neck and cracked her knuckles before her iridescent blue scales shifted into downy white feathers. Her body bulked to fit Launchpad’s himbo-mass. She couldn’t help but let out a burst of laughter at his proportions before arriving at the Mallard-McQuack household.

“I am the one who controls the screen-time, little lady. I am your father!” Drake bellowed down the hall and through the open front door.

Yeah, this was the right house.

Gosalyn raced down the hall followed in quick pursuit by an exasperated Drake. The child crashed into Camille’s legs, stopped in her tracks. Drake came up from behind her and snatched the tablet. “You can have this back after you finish your homework,” Drake huffed while he tucked it into the front pocket of his frilly pink apron. He was snapped out of his gloating victory when he finally saw it was his boyfriend standing in front of him. “Launchpad! What are you doing back so soon? You know how annoyed Mr. McDuck gets when he’s late.”

Perhaps Camille emulated Launchpad too well because her response wasn’t the most well thought out. “Uh, babe I just forgot my morning kisses.” Camille blundered out. How she, a lesbian, got herself into a situation where she had to kiss a man was beyond her. She’d just have to imagine it was a woman. Maybe the particular woman who had assigned her this task as the new head of the Serious Six. The woman who’s living art squirmed in an envelope in Camille’s pocket. The woman she wanted to impress most of all.

Even with a little imagination, it was a moment of torture that dragged on far longer than it’s actual occurrence. Suddenly, mid-kissing, Drake’s face twisted. “Wait a minute, you already had your morning kisses!”

“Oh yeah, must’ve forgotten. I was, uh, I forgot that I need to check the Ratcatcher for glitches. Don’t want any trouble for our patrol night, and Mr. McDu--Mr. McDee is totally okay with it, I already dropped him off. Might’ve hit a few stop signs on the way back, but I’m here.” Camille said as she held out her arms sheepishly. As soon as Drake’s face became warm, and his eyes lit up in love, she knew she was in.

Camille ignored Drake’s gushing and then slithered down the hall to the garage. Inside she saw it, the Ratcatcher. The same disgusting vehicle that had stopped a countless number of schemes and had run over her tail at least twice.

Splatter Phoenix had an eye for detail. Without the unnecessary personal vendetta against Drake, she thrived as the careful and constructive leader of the Fearsome Five, now the Serious Six. Camille certainly admired her ideas, but she also admired her passion, her beautiful and intense face, and her hair that wavered like pencil lines and was as soft as canvas. She made up that last detail because as much as she wanted to, she had never gotten close enough to have it brush up against her scales.

Camille refocused herself and popped open the side of the motorcycle. She felt from her back pocket the envelope Splatter Phoenix had given her. As Camille unclasped it, her thoughts trailed right back to the moment she had received it. It took nearly as much effort as shapeshifting to go back to the task at hand rather than indulge in Splatter Phoenix telling her just how much she appreciated her doing this.

Using Launchpad’s beefy hands she snapped various parts out of place, occasionally peeking into the envelope to check if they matched. Camille replaced each with a nearly identical, but overall useless, doodle of the part. Splatter Phoenix’s spark of life expressed itself in their repetitive movements as they emulated the exact functions of their counterparts. She tossed each of the stolen parts into a bag with a careless toss and shut the hatch on the Ratcatcher. After a quick glance over at the door to assure herself she was alone, Camille shifted each of her fingers into the various tools of a lock pick pouch. She fitted them into the motorcycle until one of them clicked into place. She turned it and the Ratcatcher was silent. The beast would roar no more.

Camille was able to leave the house far quicker than she had entered it, and at first, without as much trouble too. Suddenly, a high fence sprung from the ground and surrounded the boundaries of the house. Camille froze.

There was a small flash and a purple cloud rose from the ground.

“I am the popsicle wrapper that won’t seem to open. I am the splinter from the popsicle stick in the tongue of injustice. I am Darkwing Duck!”

She rolled her golden eyes as she sarcastically wondered exactly what snack Drake had decided to eat in between their kiss and this equally unfortunate situation.

“My boyfriend is capable of many things but shapeshifting isn’t one of them. Being caught stealing by the home security camera is, albeit it was the cookie jar and not motorcycle parts but-” Drake cut himself off. “Hand over those parts evil-doer, or suck gas!”

It had been a long day and, under different leadership, Camille would’ve been tempted to hand herself over only to make an easy escape later but the thought of failing Splatter Phoenix was difficult to bear. She transformed her worry into villainous confidence. “I think it would be funnier if it all just FLEW AWAY!” Camille jovially shouted as her Launchpad melted into a feral bird. She shot off into the sky and over the fence with a deafening screech. The bag of parts dangled from her claws.

Camille continued to glide across the sky unbothered until she spotted a motorcycle on the road beneath her. Her form faltered, had she failed in breaking the Ratcatcher? As her wings partially shrank down, Camille fell sharply a few meters. Closer, she could see it wasn’t Drake, but someone else. The motorcycle was a deep black and had cartoonish flames shooting out the back. *Cartoonish!* Camille gasped at the sight of Splatter Phoenix. Her hair tucked beneath a spiked helmet. Her beautiful eyes hidden cooly behind the visor. She had to flap her wings a bit harder when her eyes became glued to Splatter’s arms and back as the muscles revved the engine.

In a move that shocked Camille, Splatter Phoenix turned around and waved upwards at her. Camille followed down a side road as her flapping became less consistent and weak. They stopped behind a worn-down billboard advertising Bud Flood Bottled Water.

When she landed the large bird shifted into an awkward Camille. She clutched her arm holding the bag while she shifted the weight between her feet.

Splatter Phoenix removed the helmet and shook her hair free, never letting her smile cease. “Nice work back there” she congratulated with a playful air.

Camille swallowed. “You saw all of that?”

“Of course. I watch all of the team members on missions.” She paused and a small snicker slipped through. “Okay, only the interesting ones.” Camille and Splatter met each other’s eyes. “Actually, just you.”

Camille’s facial scales flashed an electric blue. It had been the first time in a while that she had seen Splatter without the gravitas of leadership.

Splatter Phoenix carefully tucked a loose strand of hair back into place. “The daft old duck is probably still looking for a bird. Want to hitch a ride?”

There it was. Confidence. It made Camille lightly shudder. “Sure,” she managed to let out.

“Alright,” Splatter chuckled. “Do you want to help me drive or just hold on?”

“Yes!” Camille said in an excited burst.

Splatter Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Come on Cam, you’ve got to pick one.”

If Camille wasn’t careful she’d let herself melt away. It wasn’t the first time Splatter Phoenix had called her Cam, but it had felt that way every time. “Oh I think I’ll just sit back, let you handle this one.” she teased, attempting to redeem her confidence.

Splatter Phoenix slipped her helmet back onto her head. Before she took a seat, she patted it. “You can store the parts in here. It’ll be less obvious.” Once the bad was hidden, Splatter Phoenix got onto the motorcycle with Camille following right after. Camille held her tight around the waist. “We haven’t started moving yet, Cam. But don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

Camille could only be silent as Splatter Phoenix sped off onto the main road. The ends of Splatter Phoenix’s hair fluttered in the wind, petting Camille. She had been wrong. It wasn’t as soft as canvas. It was softer.


End file.
